Full of loftiness into the green of spring
nearly gone now with the hush of autumn.
Slowly drifting far beneath from where they
had grown, one by one, sometimes many at a time
casting their own magic as they float to the
bed of others resting in the quiet below.
The dusk makes the sky around them look
like shades of crimson and gold, dark blue
sky as backdrop, never more beautiful than now.
Slow are the whispers as they drift from the sky
cool breezes pass over then as they dance
and change their course one more time.
Few remain as autumn showers come
and take the final remnants of the green of spring.
Hush to hear the silence of the rustle of the leaves no more~
Mary Howell Cromer
copyright October 1998
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